


Getting Burned

by crabbybun



Category: Instinct (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Light cheating, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-05-31 15:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15122519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crabbybun/pseuds/crabbybun
Summary: Sequel to Playing with Fire.  Dylan and Julian's personal lives continue to get more complicated.





	1. Episode 11 - Blast from the Past

**Author's Note:**

> I’m glad I specified a timeline before, because jfc this show is murdering me. I can see it before they show it, and I can write it better than they can. So that’s what this is. This fic is going to be a rewrite of episodes 11 & 12 with a third chapter added - either a rewrite of the finale or an original chapter depending on how that BS plays out. 
> 
> This is a sequel to my other fic and will reference what I established there. I headcannoned Julian as bisexual and thought of this love triangle as a sequel fic before the show threw it in my face. I just really want to make it more believable now.

Julian leaned against one of the street signs while he waited for Dylan.  He wryly reflected on the apprehensiveness he felt over his meeting with the other man; not long ago he had watched Dylan struggle with another confession of feelings.  The circumstances were not quite similar, but Julian was edgy nonetheless, the feeling enhanced by their recent past. They had kept their relationship professional since then, but the news he had received recently about Dylan had set Julian off.  Julian hoped Dylan would understand that this was about more than his attraction to the man; Julian was Dylan’s friend first and foremost and as his friend Julian felt it was his duty to say something to Dylan. To warn him of his foolishness, to express concern over the other man’s safety.  

He heard the motorcycle coming before actually seeing Dylan.  It struck him, not for the first time, how odd it was that the nerdy professor chose this mode of transportation, and how surprisingly well it fit him.  Dylan made riding in a suit look far more attractive than it should, he thought as eyed the man up while Dylan parked. Julian had to swallow a little before he could actually speak, tempering the sudden rise of desire he felt.  Dylan had certainly lit a fire in him those few months ago, but he had also decided against doing anything about it and that frustrated Julian to absolutely no end. Though, he understood Dylan’s motives and tried not to let his frustration show.  

“Don’t do the magazine story,” Julian sid, getting right to the point in an attempt to distract himself.  It was a difficult conversation to have anyway; best to get it over with, and the less they were physically around each other, the better.  

“Wow,” Dylan said as he removed his helmet, “Your contacts in the publishing world didn’t take long to get on the phone.”  Dylan seemed somewhat aggressive about the subject; Julian couldn’t tell if it was because he was rubbing a sore spot, or because of the unresolved tension between them.  Dylan approached Julian, physically relaxing somewhat and said “I appreciate your concern, but you’re worrying about nothing.”

Julian hoped with all his heart that that were true.  He wanted to appeal to Dylan’s feelings, but since that was a tender subject, he instead tried an appeal to Dylan’s logic and training.  “Kandahar. Fallujah. Waziristan. We’ve seen a lot together. You used to be careful.” He was being hard on Dylan and he knew it, but he was genuinely worried about Dylan putting himself that far out there.  Dylan had been one of the best agents in a dangerous business, and instead of writing fiction under a pseudonym like John la Carre did, he went and wrote non-fiction using his real name. Could he not see the position that alone put him in?  

“Are you comparing Pakistan’s lawless border region with a magazine that did a cover story about the city’s best falafel?” Dylan asked skeptically.  It did sound a little ridiculous when he put it like that, Julian thought.

What he said in reply was, “I’m saying former CIA officers don’t hire publicists.”  Which was more Julian’s main concern. Hiring a publicist meant that Dylan didn’t just want  _ some  _ publicity; a publicist meant you wanted continuing and escalating publicity.  Which was Kryptonite for ex-CIA operatives. 

Dylan smiled his charming little half-smile at Julian, and Julian was momentarily breathless.  He cursed the fact that Dylan could still do this to him without even realizing it. “Have you been spying on me?” Dylan asked.

Why do smart men ask dumb questions, Julian thought before replying.  “Yes,” he said, staring Dylan down. He was hoping the prolonged eye contact would unnerve Dylan.  There wasn’t a lot of space between them, and Julian desperately wanted to grab the other man and shake some sense into him.  

“She’s not my publicist,” Dylan said with a small laugh and a shake of his head.  

That was not the reaction Julian was hoping for.  Dylan’s denial made Julian anxious; denial meant he wasn’t looking at the whole picture.  “Two words:,” Julian said once more, hoping to get through to the other man, “Tony Collins.”

Dylan seemed nonplussed.  “Five words:,” he retorted, “I have work to do.”  Dylan turned to leave, but Julian could tell he struck a nerve, as Dylan turned back around and added “Collins was careless,” in an agitated voice.  Julian reached out and grabbed Dylan’s arm as he went to leave again. 

Dylan stopped, looking at the hand on his arm in a confused way before looking at Julian.  

“I care too much about you,” was all Julian said, but he let that one sentence weigh a thousand tons.  He held eye contact with Dylan for a moment as well, before squeezing Dylan’s arm slightly and giving him a sad smile.  

Since his conversation with Dylan had not gone quite the way Julian expected, he was thinking about what to do next as he left. He had a Plan B, but he really didn’t want to have to use it.  However, since Dylan was not being as receptive to his warnings as he’d like, Julian figured Plan B was just going to have to make do. 

~

Julian was surprised later that night by his phone abruptly going off.  He hesitated to answer when he saw Dylan’s name on the caller ID. It was far too late at night for a professional phone call, and Julian didn’t know if he wanted to open those wounds right at that moment.  Finally, however, his curiosity over the call won out and he answered the phone.

“Now this is a surprise,” he said as a greeting, “You must’ve had a fight with Andy.”

“What, do you have my placed bugged now too?” was Dylan’s snorted reply.  

“No,” Julian said coolly, “but it’s far too late for this to be a professional call, and you have a crush on me.  You’ve been looking for an excuse to do something like this.”

“Yeah okay,” Dylan reluctantly admitted, “I did have an argument with my husband, and  _ no  _ I shouldn’t be calling you.  Happy?”

Julian let out a tired breath.  “No” he admitted honestly, “I want nothing more than to be there with you right now.  My feelings haven’t changed. Have yours?” Dylan was quiet on the other end of the line, but Julian noticed that he didn’t hang up.  “We could meet somewhere neutral,” he suggested, “A bar or something?”

“No,” Dylan said, reluctance in his voice, “that might  **actually** make Andy suspicious.”

“What did you tell him?” Julian asked.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” Dylan said, “Suffice it to say, the conversation unnerved Andy.  Badly, and I really don’t want to make it worse.”

“So what were you two arguing about then?” Julian asked again, “Aren’t you two what the kids like to call ‘goals’?”

Dylan snickered a little.  “My segment on TV tonight,” he told Julian, “which led to me telling him about the magazine article…”

“And he doesn’t want you to do it either?” Julian interjected, hopeful that he might have some leverage in his effort to keep Dylan safe.  

“Not exactly,” Dylan sounded annoyed again, “More that he doesn’t want to be involved in it.”

“He’s a smart man,” Julian said, “You should think about doing the same thing.  And drop the publicist.”

“She’s  **not** my publicist,” Dylan snapped and promptly hung up.

Plan B it would have to be, Julian thought.

~

“Plan B” was Dylan’s NYPD partner, Lizzie. Julian had mixed feelings about this, as he still felt bad about his former assumptions on her character.  He didn’t tend to think of people as “basically good”; experience had proven that most people were only out for themselves, and so Julian didn’t usually look much farther than that.  But Dylan was much better at reading people, and it turned out Lizzie really was the innocent lamb he portrayed her to be. The realization had triggered Julian’s protective instincts, and this development troubled him a little.  Developing feelings - beyond professional ones - for Dylan’s close working partner was  **asking** to complicate his life more than it was already.  

But Dylan wasn’t listening to him, so he sauntered into Ray’s Pizza Parlour to surprise Detective Needham.  He noticed her sitting at a table, ensconced in her work, paying absolutely no attention to her surroundings.  He admired that kind of freedom. 

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, bending low to Lizzie to pull her out of her work. She looked up, and stared at him as if seeing a ghost.  

“Wow,” she said, composing herself as Julian sat down, “Dylan’s Super Special Secret Friend has come all the way to Forest Hills for a slice at Ray’s.”  He detected a defensiveness about her, and he didn’t blame her. The last time they had met face to face, he hadn’t been the nicest person. 

“Three enthusiastic Yelp reviews can’t be wrong,” he replied wryly.

They watched a couple of patrons pass in silence, then Lizzie spoke again.  “Actually, I’ve wanted to thank you. For proving Charlie’s innocence,” she said sadly, pain tinging her voice, “Losing him was...really hard.  But at least now, I have peace.” She was nodding her head almost compulsively, and avoiding eye contact. Julian could tell the subject hurt her, but he could also tell she was trying to be open and honest right now, even if it was uncomfortable for her.  

“It was my pleasure,” Julian told her sincerely.  His feelings of unease increased; he didn’t want her to feel like he was cashing in on something she might “owe” him.  But he was frantic over Dylan right now and he could think of no one else who could help him. 

“I need a favor,” he said, bringing his eyes up to meet Lizzie’s.  A look of confusion came over her face.

“Shouldn’t we be meeting on a park bench, or a bridge shrouded in darkness?” she asked, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.  Julian thought to play along; maybe it would ease things between them.

“Even spies occasionally come in from the cold for a hot slice,” he quipped back.

“Mmm, somehow you don’t strike me as a pizza kind of guy,” Lizzie replied.  She was flirting, Julian realized, struck by how cute he found that. 

Intrigued, he played along and said, “I’m not.  My palate is quite refined.” He smiled a little as he noticed the waiter coming.  

“Need something pal?” the kid said roughly

“Four garlic knots, and a pepperoni pinwheel please,” he said with a smile.  He saw a wry one appear on Lizzie’s lips. The thought of Lizzie being beautiful crossed his mind again as the silence that descended between them quickly turned awkward.

Lizzie broke it by asking “So, this is not too public for you?” curiously.  Good opening, Julian thought, wanting to take the attention off himself and get back to the problem with Dylan.  

“Being too public is not my problem,” he told her, “It’s your partner’s.  That’s why I wanted to talk to you.” Lizzie’s brow furrowed.

“Okay…” she said, a mixture of confusion and concern in her voice.  Julian was grateful she seemed willing to hear him out.

“Dylan is unwise in becoming a public figure,” he said, sitting up straighter and trying to impart upon her the seriousness of the situation, “It’s dangerous.”

“Sounds like you should warn him,” Lizzie replied.  

Julian sighed.  “I tried,” he told her, letting the disappointment he felt show through a little, “He didn’t listen.”  Julian briefly told Lizzie about Tony Collins and what had become of him, hoping she would understand the parallels he saw.  

“So, you really think Dylan’s is endangering his life?” Lizzie asked, and Julian could hear some of the same skepticism he heard when he talked to Dylan.  

“Let’s just say, he’s making me nervous,” Julian said dryly. 

“You don’t strike me as the nervous type,” Lizzie said seriously.

“Spies and nervous systems have similar functions:” Julian told her, “Extract and process information to determine an appropriate threat level.  And no, I’m not the nervous type. So when I feel this way, it’s usually for good reason.” That was more than he really wanted her to know about him, but he cared about Dylan enough to come this far, and if he was to have any hope of keeping Dylan safe he needed Lizzie on his side.  He hoped that he was right, and that she cared enough about Dylan as well to take him seriously. Right now, however, it was obvious that Lizzie was mostly just uncomfortable. 

“Dylan’s a big boy,” she replied, “and, umm, I’m not in the habit of keeping secrets from my partner.”  She awkwardly gathered up her stuff and rose to leave. 

This was not how Julian thought this conversation would go either.  “Wait,” he said, reaching out and grabbing her arm before she could pass.  He snatched the pen out of her hand and ripped off a piece of paper plate. He wrote down his number, folded the piece up, and handed it to Lizzie.  “Just in case,” he told her. 

“And, umm, if I  _ were  _ to call you,” she said, stammering a little, “what would I call you?”

Goodness, Julian thought to himself, the things spies forget about. 

“Julian,” he said, holding her gaze for as long as he could - partly to make her focus on their discussion and partly because he thought her eyes were pretty.  She regarded him as well for a moment before leaving, turning the paper in her fingers curiously. 

Julian turned slightly to watch her leave, even more uncomfortable some ways than he was before the meeting occurred.  Lizzie Needham was a strange creature; jittery and fierce and quietly beautiful. He found himself thinking that he’d really like to hear from her, and not just for Dylan’s sake.  

~

Okay, Lizzie thought to herself as she left the office, Dylan is  **definitely** not himself.  She had never seen him quite this stuck before, and it seemed like every miss tore his confidence in himself to shreds.  The worse he felt, the worse he performed, and he was too stubborn to pull back and look at the big picture. She thought that right now, if he did that he might just give up entirely.  

So that totally justified her contacting Julian right?  Despite what her partner thought, too many things added up and there was no such thing as coincidence - Dylan was connected to this, whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not.  She wasn’t going to let his stubbornness over this subject stop her from solving this case, even if that meant she might need to keep a secret from her partner for a while. It was only going to be a temporary secret, she promised herself as she set up a dinner meeting with Julian for later that night.  It was to save lives, after all, and definitely had  **nothing** to do with Julian’s tall, dark, and mysterious demeanor, no matter how attractive it might seem (it seemed  **very** attractive though, Lizzie thought.)

~

Julian sat in the lounge that night wondering if Lizzie had the guts to actually show up.  She had seemed very hesitant when she contacted him, but clearly she had cared enough about what was going on to come forward.  She had asked him to look up some sort of gifted students that she said was part of her case. When he had asked why Dylan wasn’t contacting him instead, Lizzie had gone all quiet and said she would tell him when she got there.  What she didn’t say, the part that made Julian agree to this whole thing, was that she thought Dylan was in trouble. That would explain his hesitancy to contact Julian himself; he didn’t want to deal with being wrong. The fact that Lizzie  _ had  _ contacted him showed Julian that his trust in the woman when it came to Dylan was not misplaced.  It was endearing to him; he felt as if they both saw how precious Dylan was and tried to preserve as much of it as they could.  

Lizzie walked into the bar with purpose, eyes darting around the place like she was searching out a perp and not meeting a friend for drinks.  Part of it was her apprehension at playing the spy game, something she wasn’t comfortable with from the get-go. But the other part - the part she kept trying not to think about - was because Julian took her breath away a little.  She spotted him across the room as she came around a corner. He radiated an intensity that made her heart beat a little faster every time she saw him. He was staring into his drink, deep in thought, and she was trying desperately to not think about how beautiful he appeared in the low light, when he looked up and saw her.  Lizzie briefly wondered if Dylan had ever thought this way about his friend.

Julian felt her eyes on him, and looked up to meet her equally intense gaze.  He stood to greet her and asked “Care for a drink?” motioning to the bottle of whiskey on the table. 

“No thanks” she replied, sitting down, “Working.”  This was  **not** a date, she told herself, this was work; she was meeting a CI for a potential lead on her case.  You don’t have drinks with your CI, she chastised herself. 

“I have to say, I was surprised you called,” Julian said, hoping to maybe get her to open up and talk.

“Yeah so was I,” Lizzie quickly replied, trying to get past this and get to the point, “So, did you find anything?”  She was determined to keep this as professional as she could, to not give in to the intimate atmosphere of the lounge, this meeting, or Julian’s aura.  

“I did indeed,” Julian said, placing his drink aside and leaning in conspiratorially.  He began telling her about the experiment he had discovered that was connected to the program she had talked about.  He answered a few questions as she had them, including revealing the participation of the US government. 

Lizzie looked very worried now, hand lightly rubbing her temple.  “The government?” she asked, sounding dazed, “I think I’ll have that drink now.”

Knowing that these sorts of plots were unfamiliar to a city police detective like Lizzie, Julian wasted no time in pouring her a generous glass.  “Sorry I couldn’t find more specifics,” he said while he poured. His main motive was still to keep Dylan safe, and being unable to come up with any names frustrated him.  He assumed one of the children of this experiment was their subject, and the thought of it being connected to Dylan had crossed his mind. 

“Dylan knows the specifics,” Lizzie said, grabbing the drink as soon asy Julian stopped pouring.  Which, he did pretty much as soon as she said that.

Julian had froze, bottle still tilted.  If Dylan knew the specifics, then why was she here in the first place?  Why wasn’t Dylan telling her what he knew? What was he trying to hide?

“Dylan was involved?” Julian asked, trying to remain calm.  Lizzie could feel the anxiety radiating off of him as he stared her down.  She took from her drink. 

“My God,” he said, the thought dawning on him, “Was he one of the kids?”  Lizzie swallowed hard, the lump in her throat having nothing to do with the strong drink.

“I don’t know,” she replied, shaking her head nervously, “He doesn’t want to talk about it.”  She had the sneaky suspicion that that’s exactly what Dylan had been avoiding talking about. He must have been one of those poor children experiment on.  The thought was shocking to Lizzie, and she pulled from her drink again as Julian kept on.

“And you think Dylan is connected to the bombings,” he asked quietly.  This was  **exactly** the sort of thing Julian worried about when ex-CIA agents did stupid things like hiring publicists. 

“Again, I don’t know,” Lizzie admitted, a little desperation creeping into her voice, “The only viable suspect died 11 years ago.  But whatever this is, I’m pretty sure it’s got something to do with the experiment.”

Julian was intently focused on Lizzie and what she was saying about Dylan.  Leaning back again, he said “Do you understand now why I approached you? This is the kind of situation I was afraid of.  If he puts himself out in front of an even bigger audience, another even more dangerous enemy will come for him once more.  It worries me even more that Dylan isn’t opening up to you about it. I fear that he’ll act rashly, do something to put himself in more danger to try and solve this.”  

Lizzie nodded and took another drink.  “This case  _ is  _ certainly taking its toll on him,” she confessed, “I’ve never seen him shut down like this before.  It’s almost as if he was avoiding thinking about the connections that are right in front of him, and that worries me too.”

That sounded like Dylan, Julian thought.  “Tell him that,” Julian said, leaning forward again and speaking ardently, “Express your concern to him.  He won’t listen to me, but he might to you.”

“Why won’t he listen to you?” Lizzie asked with some confusion, “You’re his Super Special Secret Friend - doesn’t that make you close?”  She took another drink and added, “If he wasn’t married, I’d assume you two were dating.” 

Julian was suddenly very grateful for the place he had picked, as low lighting and his own dark complexion could mask the heat he felt rising in his face.  Lizzie was certainly observant, he thought wryly. He took from his own drink to mask his discomfort before speaking again.

“Sometimes, being close means that you regard the other person differently,” he told her, “Dylan sees me as paranoid; unable to let go of our former lives.  It clouds his judgement.”

“Well, clearly you are more than just paranoid,” Lizzie said.  She finished her drink and sat there a moment, staring at the empty glass.  An awkward silence ensued for a moment before Lizzie broke it.

“Well, umm,” she stammered, “Thank you...for this.  I appreciate the help, and I think I need to go talk to my partner about some things.”  She quickly gathered up her things and stood to leave. She stood there for a moment hesitantly, staring at him like she was contemplating something, before she leaned over and rested her hand on the top of his.  She quickly gave it a small squeeze, and gave Julian a small smile, before she rushed off.

Julian watched her until she was out of sight, unsure of how to react to her.  He felt like they were developing a kinship, a mutual understanding of each other that had the potential to become much more.  Her touch sent goosebumps up his arms, and as much as he didn’t really want to admit it, he was beginning to see Lizzie as more than just Dylan’s partner.  She radiated a sort of light that he found himself drawn to, and the glimpses he’d had of her softness charmed him. He found himself wanting to see more of that side of her; wanting to be the one to bring that out of her.  

Julian groaned and poured himself another generous drink.  Goddamnit, he thought, what am I gonna do  _ now _ ? 

~

The next night, he was surprised by two phone calls: one from Dylan, and one from Lizzie.  

Dylan’s was first.  He was apparently on his way to meet Andy, and he wanted to tell Julian personally that he had just fired his publicist.  

“Thank you,” Dylan said sincerely, “for caring so much.  If you weren’t there to put doubts in my head, I might’ve gone ahead and done something  _ really  _ stupid.”

“Stupider than hiring a publicist?” Julian asked, ribbing him a little, “I can hardly think of worse.”

“Oh shut up,” Dylan said good-naturedly, “I’m just...I’m glad I have you watching my back.”

Julian sat in silence for a moment, his heart heavy with longing for Dylan.  It was moments like these where he thought of Andy as truly lucky. 

“Always, my friend,” Julian managed to say, voice breaking only a little.   He hung up the phone before Dylan could reply. 

Not five minutes later, the phone rang again.  This time, his caller ID showed Lizzie’s name.

“Well, now I’m even more surprised,” was how he answered, “I was lead to believe you had solved your case.”

“Dylan fired his publicist and everything,” Lizzie replied, “The world of Dylan Reinhart is once again safe.  But I still don’t feel okay with this.”

“With what?” Julian asked, trying to sound innocent, “It’s not like we’re carrying on some sort of affair.”  There was a very pregnant silence that ensued after Julian said that, but he was acutely aware that Lizzie didn’t hang up.  

“Have you been thinking about it too?” Julian asked quietly.

“Excuse me?” Lizzie asked, sounding startled.

“You’re an attractive woman,” Julian confessed, “and I’m more than a little interested.  Are you going to try to tell me that you don’t feel something similar?”

“If I did,” Lizzie said, “I wouldn’t do it behind Dylan’s back.   **That’s** what I’m still uncomfortable about.  He should know you’ve been talking to me.”

“I don’t see why,” Julian said, “The two of us can protect him better this was, without him feeling smothered or spied upon.”

“Is this how you care for the people you love?” she asked indignantly, “Do you lie because you think you’re protecting people?  Because that’s not love to me.”

Julian was silent, knowing deep down that she was right.  “What do you suggest we do then?” he asked, turning the problem back on her. 

“Tell Dylan you’re contacting me,” Lizzie said, turning hard on him, “and if you don’t do it soon, I will.”  With that, Lizzie hung up.

That went well, Julian thought, dropping his head into his hands.  

**[FIN]**


	2. Episode 12 - Live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GODS ABOVE I HATE THIS EPISODE. 
> 
> This is, by far, one of the worst episodes of the series overall in general. I *did* manage to pinpoint why this has annoyed me so much though. Did you guys realize that Julian and Lizzie literally only have two interactions this whole episode? And in the second one they go right into making out! They have had five - FIVE - interactions total the whole series and she didn't learn his name until the second interaction. UGH. That is not how you write good chemistry. Where is my sexual tension? Where's my emotional tension? Where's anything leading up to these two characters /actually/ being attracted to one another??  
> The only saving grace is that Lizzie is so Done(tm) with this whole thing from the beginning that it was honestly fun to write. I love her character more now after writing her. 
> 
> Y'all are still probably going to hate me for this chapter tho? I'm sorry; I didn't plan to write it this way, it just made the most sense.

I hate men, Lizzie thought, not for the first time in her life.  She’d thought that about numerous members of the NYPD before. Her current partner was one of the better ones, but even he had his moments.  Like with their last case, when he had completely shut her out for a while right in the middle of the case. Which is what had lead her to her current predicament.

Dylan had a Super Special Secret Best Friend that had reached out to her, a couple of times now actually.  Well, she had reached out once. Whatever, it was Dylan’s fault to begin with; keeping secrets and being uncommunicative.  And she shouldn’t have been surprised when Julian turned out to be just as stubborn and set in his ways as Dylan was; neither one of them wanting their little veil of secrecy broken.  It drove Lizzie nuts.

Keeping secrets tended to give her anxiety, and so she had warned Julian to come clean before she was forced to. She had given him a week or so - she wasn’t keeping close track of that time - but it was clear that Julian was ignoring her warning.  So Lizzie felt forced to take matters into her own hands, before things went any farther.

She first contacted Dylan, luring him out to her meeting place on the pretext of a new case. She knew Julian was going to be harder, because he was a professional spy and she definitely wasn’t.  On the other hand, Julian had admitted an attraction to her, and she knew from experience that those things could cloud a man’s judgement. She leveraged the tension that had been present at their previous meetings to get Julian to agree to meet her.

She then spent the whole day nearly crawling out of her skin.  She didn’t _really_ want to have this conversation, even though it was a necessity. She wondered who would show up first, when, and how far apart.  How long would she have to stall either one? Dylan would probably be easy enough to stall; she was comfortable around him and knew how to lead him on in conversation.  Julian was a different story; while she hadn’t really voiced it yet, Lizzie was beginning to feel more than just curious about Dylan’s dark and mysterious friend. Lizzie finally felt like she was moving on in her life, and she could possibly consider exploring the options open to her.   **But** , she couldn’t even _think_ about any of that until **after** everybody started being honest with one another, she told herself.

The bar she had picked for a meeting place was one that she had heard about from Andy; he kept up on all bar openings, and dragged Dylan along, regaling her with the tales when they went to Rafter’s for lunch.  This one was recently opened inside an old hotel, and a little too trendy and upscaled for Andy’s taste, though he did say that it had a wonderful view.

Lizzie was staring at that view when Julian entered the bar.  He watched her as he quietly approached the table, admiring the way she seemed to glow in the low light.  

“Hello Lizzie,” he said, bringing her out of her reverie.  

She turned and gave him a sweet smile.  “Glad you could make it,” she said as the waitress approached.  Julian ordered a couple of glasses of wine before turning to Lizzie.  

“Pleased you rang,” he said, looking down a little, “and...surprised.” He raised his eyes from under his brow to look at her questioningly.   
You have **no** idea, Lizzie thought to herself.  “I’m full of surprises,” she replied, trying to be playful but still feeling like a nervous wreck.

“I don’t doubt it,” Julian said, a little suspiciously, “This isn’t about some NYPD case, is it?”

“No,” Lizzie said, shaking her head and laughing a little.  Far from it, she thought.

“Good,” Julian said, and gave her a smoldering look.  Lizzie was a little breathless and suddenly unsure of how to respond.  This was what she was afraid of, and she had let a moment of silence pass before she was rescued by Dylan’s arrival.  Thank God everyone knows how to be on time, Lizzie thought.

“Lizzie,” he said in a short greeting, clearly confused by the scene he was walking in on.  

“I didn’t realize this was a party,” Julian said, looking at Lizzie.  She could see a change in his whole being; his posture was stiffer, his eyes were hard, and his tone had a ring of accusation to it. Oh well, Lizzie thought, this is what you get for not doing it earlier.  As far as she was concerned, Julian had brought this on himself.

“Well this is an interesting...twist,” Dylan said, his composure strained as well.  He stood stiffly, hands behind his back, looking like a kid in the principal’s office.  Oh my God, Lizzie thought, I’m dealing with children. Not for the first time, she thought about how insufferable men could be in general.  

“Okay!” Lizzie said, taking control of the situation, “So, I invited you both here so we can put _all_ our cards on the table; no lies between us.  I play by the rules.” The thought of the sheer impossibility of what she was asking flitted through both Julian’s and Dylan’s heads briefly, as Dylan’s eyes darted between Julian and Lizzie.  

“Clearly, I know who Julian is,” Lizzie continued, turning to Dylan a little more, “and we’ve met.  A couple of times.” Dylan’s head whipped around to look at Julian, his expression a mixture of surprise and disquiet.  Julian met his gaze sidelong as he heard Lizzie continue.

“Now I know you both enjoy this spy crap, but I **don’t** , and my job doesn’t allow it,” she noticed the looks passing between the two men, and thought to herself to ask about it later, “So I’m drawing a line here.  If it involves me, _or_ my work, everything is out in the open.”  The two men nodded at her, but Lizzie was aware of the trouble they were having.  She felt as if she were mothering two petulant children, for they wore expressions as if they had just been chastised on the playground.  

Dylan managed to croak out an “Understood,” as he stood there.  His posture hadn’t slackened at all, and he wore the most uncomfortable expression on his face.  He looked down and asked, in a strained voice, “Just out of curiosity, who came to who first?”

Lizzie looked gobsmacked.  “Who came to who first?” she repeated, “What are you, twelve?”  Dylan replied with his best constipated look.

Julian sighed a little to himself.  He had underestimated Lizzie, that was for sure.  He had thought she would give him more time to do this on his own, but clearly she was a woman of action.  Normally a turn-on for him - he enjoyed take-charge women - the fact that Dylan was the third person involved in this little triangle made this...complicated.  Julian knew what Dylan was thinking, and so he stepped in.

“For the record, I was protecting you,” he told Dylan, trying to mentally convey the conversation they had had a few weeks prior.  

“You were protecting me?” Dylan said, in that voice, with that hurt puppy dog look in his eyes and Julian was sunk.  

Thankfully he didn’t have to think of a reply, because Lizzie interjected. “You were protecting each other, like little teenagers with secrets,” she shot out, sensing something deeper in their conversation and not wanting to be in the middle of it.  “But I’m not good with secrets,” she stressed to them as the waitress brought over the wine Julian had ordered earlier. Lizzie took it as the perfect opportunity to depart and leave them to sort themselves out.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said to them, “I have to go home and walk my dog, so enjoy your Chateau...whatever.”  She waved her hands at the whole mess awkwardly and walked off.

Dylan walked around the table in a controlled rage, the look on his face like that of a child close to throwing a tantrum.  He watched Lizzie leave, then eyed Julian angrily as the other man poured them both a glass of wine. Dylan’s gaze softened a little as he looked at Julian, taking up one of the glasses and motioning after Lizzie with it.  

“She really is something,” he said, watching Julian carefully.  They toasted before Julian answered.

“She is indeed,” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.  He wore a genuine smile for a moment before taking a drink and steeling himself for the conversation that was to come.

“Are you out of your mind, getting her involved in all this?” Dylan burst out after putting down his drink.

“I told you that I cared too much about you,” Julian replied softly.

“And that meant getting involved with my working partner?” Dylan asked, still incredulous and a little incensed.  

“You wouldn’t listen to me!” Julian shot back.  Dylan stared Julian down for a moment, before beginning to fidget.  His eyes darted around the bar, and he ran his hand through his hair nervously.

“I don’t want to do this here,” he said.

“Agreed,” Julian responded and finished off his wine, “Roof?”  Dylan nodded, and they set off together with purpose.

“So what’s your agenda now?” Dylan asked as they burst onto the roof of the hotel, “Are you genuinely interested in Lizzie, or was that another ploy to get close to me?  Don’t act like I didn’t see the way you were looking at her when I walked up.”

“You know what?” Julian said, letting his building anger out now that they were alone, “I really do, genuinely like her Dylan.  I’d even like to explore that more, to move on, but somehow you still keep _getting in my way_ ,” he ground the last part out, “You tell me you love Andy, and that you want to stay faithful to your husband, and yet you’re calling me when you two have a fight, and your acting like a jealous bitch right now.  So which it it Dylan?” Julian had stormed right up to Dylan in his rage, removing all ideas of personal space. Dylan was visibly taken aback, stunned speechless by Julian’s sudden display of aggression.

“You started this,” Julian said softly, “and you can’t keep stringing me along like this.”

Dylan made a face.  “ _I_ started this?” he said, deflecting, “You’re the one who accused me of having a crush and then kissed me.”

“Oh cut the bullshit!” Julian said loudly.  He stood rigid, not moving from how he had Dylan cornered.  “This is mutual and you _know_ it.  Don’t deny your part in this _now_.”

Dylan sighed, rolling his eyes a little.  “Part in _what_?” he asked, “It’s not like we’re carrying on some sort of affair.  Which is exactly what you’re asking me to do.”

“I’m asking you to resolve your feelings,” Julian said, “Because you keep giving me enough mixed signals that I can’t just let you go.”

“Please,” Dylan begged, voice near a whisper, “don’t do this.”

“Do you still want me?” Julian asked directly.

“Yes,” Dylan whispered, unable to deny it in this close situation.

“Good,” Julian said, and grabbed Dylan by the back of the head, smashing their lips together.  He clung desperately to Dylan, and after a moment he felt Dylan’s arms come around his back and pull him closer.  This kiss was deeper than their previous encounter; their embrace was desperate, as if they needed each other more than air itself, yet it lacked the sexual tension present beforehand.  Julian’s hands cupped Dylan’s face as he sought to explore Dylan through his mouth alone, while Dylan grasped Julian’s hair as tightly as if he were holding onto reality itself.

They broke away slowly, and Dylan held Julian for a moment, looking at him sadly.  

“What’s wrong?” Julian whispered, lightly rubbing his nose against Dylan’s.  Dylan leaned in to kiss Julian again, briefly, before pulling back.

“I’m trying to remember this moment,” Dylan answered softly, “because it’s the only moment I’m going to have.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Julian said, “and you know that.  That’s been the problem all along.”

“Yes, it does,” Dylan said with a finality, beginning to pull away from Julian, “I...have something to tell you, but I didn’t exactly imagine doing it like this.”  

“What is it?” Julian said suspiciously, a bad feeling growing in his gut.

“Andy’s...ready for kids,” Dylan told him, smiling though it was tinged with sadness, “and you _know_ how much I want to be a father.”

The news felt like a knife going through Julian’s heart.  He did know just how much Dylan wanted to be a father, and kids were a more serious issue than a marriage was.  If Dylan was ready for kids, and it was a commitment Andy was also willing to make, then no matter how serious his feelings for Julian were, Julian knew Dylan would sacrifice them.  Before he could respond, Dylan’s phone buzzed. He looked at the message with concern.

“I have a case,” Dylan said, a little strained.  He looked at Julian with even more concern and bit his lip.  

“Go,” Julian said, turning away as his voice broke, “Please.  I’d rather be alone right now anyway.” Dylan nodded to Julian’s back and disappeared without another word.

Julian felt as if the world had somehow cosmically shifted and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about that.  First, he thought, he desperately needed a strong drink.

 

~

 

The next day, Dylan was with Andy when the topic of Julian came up again.  The two of them had agreed to watch a friend’s child for a week, and were prepping for her arrival.  Andy was just getting done talking about how he was going to have to be the “strict dad” of the two of them.  

“And since I get to play the heavy,” Andy said, “time to lose your board of carnage.”  He motioned to Dylan’s workspace, displaying the gruesome details of his latest case. Andy made a face.

“Oh I am _way_ ahead of you, evil un-fun dad,” Dylan said, walking over and pulling down an itinerary and map of the city.  

“Dear God,” Andy breathed, “Okay so, we pick her up from school, visit the Planetarium, see a Broadway musical, and then have frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity?  We did not do this much in our first month of dating. Or are these some cast-off plans you had with your crush?”

Dylan knew Andy was teasing - he could hear it in his husband’s tone - but it pained him nonetheless to speak of Julian in front of Andy.  

Dylan smiled a little sadly.  “No,” he told Andy softly, “I, umm...I tried not to think about him like that.”  He had **not** told Andy the name of his crush; that was a level of privacy he wanted Julian to have.  

“Hey,” Andy said with concern, equally soft as he walked up to his husband, “I’m just messing with you.”  He hugged Dylan close as he continued, “Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I find it kind of cute. And I’m **really** thankful you talked to me about it.”

Dylan squeezed Andy back, grateful for the understanding nature of his husband.  “Can we _stop_ talking about it now?” he asked into Andy’s shoulder, “I’m not nearly as comfortable with it as you seem to be.”

“Oh, I’m not particularly _comfortable_ with it,” Andy said, pulling back and taking Dylan’s chin into his hand, “But one, I love you.  Two, I think you were very brave to come talk to me about this, and I appreciate it a lot. So because of that, I’m trying to be understanding and supportive.  Did I mention I love you?”

Dylan smiled at his husband.  “I love you too,” he said as Andy leaned down to lightly kiss him.  Shortly after, the doorbell rang.

 

~

 

Meanwhile, Julian’s phone rang around lunchtime that same next day.  It woke him out of bed, which he had fallen into drunkenly after the events of the night before.  His hungover mind wanted to shut it off, but when he saw Lizzie’s name on the caller ID, curiosity got the better of him and he answered.

“You are full of surprises,” he said in a low voice.

“You sound rough,” Lizzie replied, “Did you and Dylan solve your little lover’s quarrel last night?”

Julian groaned deeply.  Dylan was to blame for all this shit, he thought to himself pityingly.  

“Are you alright?” Lizzie genuinely sounded concerned for him, Julian thought, and it tempered him somewhat.

“No,” he told her, too hungover to lie, “Why are you calling me if you’re just going to torture me by talking about _him_ ?”   
“Well, because that’s what I wanted to ask you about,” she said, “Dylan is behaving as if nothing is wrong at all, and I’m not sure if I asked him that I’d get an honest answer.  But there is **definitely** something between you two, isn’t there?”

Julian had been trying to sit up, but he groaned again and laid back down.  “God I hate you,” was his tired and pained reply, “Why do you want to know so badly?”

“Because you told me you were interested in me, and now I find out that you’re interested in my partner,” Lizzie explained, “So I want to know what your agenda really is.”

Julian’s brow furrowed.  “I’m not allowed to be interested in both of you?” he asked her.

“Umm,” Lizzie stammered, obviously thrown off by the question, “I’m just….not sure, umm, how that would really be possible.”

“Well, I’m bisexual,” Julian said, “So there’s that.”

“Oh!” Lizzie said, sounding a little surprised, “I’m sorry; I somehow never considered that option.  Okay, umm….”

Julian laughed a little.  “It’s okay,” he said, rescuing her, “as for Dylan….it’s complicated, but he’s committed to being faithful to Andy and I try to respect that.”

Lizzie was quiet on the other end for a moment before she said, “Well, that’s good I suppose.  I’m not going to get much more out of you, am I?”

Julian smiled in spite of himself.  “Not today,” he told her, “I need….time.  But if you’ll agree to meet me for coffee sometime soon, we could have this conversation again.”

“Are you asking me out?” she questioned him.

“For coffee,” was his reply.  Lizzie went quiet again.

“Okay,” she agreed hesitantly, “as friends.”

“Of course,” he drawled, “as friends.  I’ll text you details.” He let the implications hang in the air and a playful smile came over his face, knowing that she couldn’t see him, “Have a wonderful day Lizzie,” he said in the sexiest voice he could muster in his condition.  He hung up before she could respond, then groaned in pain and pulled the blankets back over his head.

 

~

 

Julian’s idea of a date seemed to be to just show up wherever she happened to be, Lizzie thought as she spotted the man sitting outside the cafe she passed with her dog every day.  It had been a day or so since their conversation, and she hadn’t received any kind of message from the man. Yet here he was, and as she got closer she noticed two coffee cups already sitting on the table.  Julian saw her, and motioned for her to join him. Hesitatingly, she sat on the edge of the seat, putting Gary’s leash around her wrist, and wrapped her hands around the cup. Gary quickly settled down next to her, the old dog grateful for a rest, and Julian reached down to give him a chew stick, which he accepted happily.  

“I...thought you were going to text me first,” Lizzie said, a little nervously.  She heard Julian sigh.

“I hated every plan I tried to make,” he confessed with a small smile, “and I thought this might be easier.”

“For you, or me?” Lizzie asked.  Julian’s smile grew.

“For both,” he said, “Isn’t this better than the usual first date anxiety?”

“I thought this was just as friends,” Lizzie pointed out, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Oh right,” Julian said mischievously, “I forgot about that part.”  He took a sip of his own drink.

“And, why am I not surprised that you know what I drink?” Lizzie asked, looking at the cup and then at Julian across the table.

Julian smiled again.  “My attention to detail is what made me a perfect candidate to be a spy,” he said, his tone playful.  

“Are these little quirks things you know about Dylan too?” She raised an eyebrow as she asked, her curious detective instincts taking over.  

Julian’s smile changed, becoming a little strained, and a pained look passed over his expressed.  He looked away from Lizzie and swallowed as he answered “Yes,” softly, images of Dylan’s cute little quirks flashing through his mind.  

Lizzie noticed the change in his demeanor and felt bad; it wasn’t her intention to pry into painful memories, she was just bad at flirting.

“I’m sorry!” she exclaimed, reaching out and touching the arm Julian had resting on the table.  He looked at it, then up at her, his expression unreadable and she jerked her hand away awkwardly, putting it back around her coffee cup.  

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, a little softer, “I...didn’t mean to bring up old wounds.  It’s just...it’s been a long time since I’ve done this and, umm, I’m not really comfortable making small talk.  Like, there are things I want to ask you, but I don’t know how to go about doing it. I sound like such a jerk no matter how I say it.”

“Say what?” Julian asked curiously, turning his body toward her attentively, “I’m curious to know what you’re interested in where it concerns me.”  

“I just...I don’t get how you can be attracted to both me and Dylan,” Lizzie muttered, avoiding eye contact and taking from her coffee.

Julian stared at Lizzie for a moment before chuckling.  And here he was thinking that she meant to pry into his emotional affair with Dylan.  

“See?  I sound like a jerk,” Lizzie said, slumping down in her chair a little.

“No,” Julian told her, smiling genuinely once again, “That was a different question than what I thought you’d ask, and nicer than many people have been.  If I were to put it simply...I’m open to connecting with anyone, regardless of gender.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Lizzie groaned. Then, she sat up again, quite suddenly.  “ _Why_ ?” she asked him, “ _That’s_ the word I’m missing.   _Why_ both me and Dylan?  How is it that the both of us just happen to be your type?”  Now, that was a far more difficult question to answer, Julian thought.  He was quiet long enough that Lizzie felt compelled to speak again. “It’s just….I mean,” she stammered, then huffed a little, “I guess I’m just... _insecure_ about all this.  Because, I can’t give you what Dylan can, and I can’t fathom why you would want what I do have to give.  Which, admittedly, isn’t much.”

“Oh Lizzie,” Julian said in empathy, reaching across the table to grab Lizzie’s hands, “Of course you can’t give me what Dylan can.  But Dylan can’t give me what you can either. I don’t see you as some...extension of him; you are a unique and special creature Lizzie Needham, and it is _you_ that I wish to get to know.”

“Why are you doing this?” Lizzie asked, voice a near-whisper.

“We both have moving on to do,” Julian said lowly, “and it might be easier to do with company.”

Lizzie’s cheeks were turning pink as she broke Julian’s intense gaze and pulled her hands away from his.  She picked up her coffee and looked around; at the other patrons, at the pedestrians, across the street - anywhere but at Julian.  She tried to think of a way to respond when her phone went off.

Julian saw Lizzie’s brow furrow as she reached for her phone.  A grim countenance came over her face, and Julian knew that it must be about her work.  He did enjoy her passion for her career; it was something that had been missing from previous relationships.  Dylan was the only other person to feel the same way about his work that Julian did, and now there was Lizzie.  Julian smiled again, quite genuinely as he tallied off the positive traits he had already found in the woman.

“Go,” he said when she finally looked up, “We can talk later.”  She nodded an affirmation and stood to leave. When she turned to grab her coffee, Julian caught her hand first.  Holding eye contact, he placed his lips lightly against her knuckles before releasing her hand.

“Until we meet again,” he said as she grabbed her coffee and hurried off.

 

~

 

Against his better judgement, Julian agreed to meet Dylan at a bar the next night.  Dylan was being avoidant, wary of what he was asking, and Julian couldn’t tell if that was case-related or related to their rocky relationship at the moment.  Since he didn’t like unanswered questions, he accepted the offer, even if everything in him screamed about what a bad idea it was. And when Dylan handed him the child’s phone and made his request known, Julian thought of it as another attempt to play with his feelings.

“Normally,” he told Dylan as calmly as he could, “you come to me to assist in your hunt for a deranged mastermind, but today you want me to hack into a 12-year-old’s bejeweled cell phone to discover who was, like, being a total liar?” He quirked an eyebrow and gazed sternly at Dylan, trying to convey his skepticism in this story.  

Dylan rolled his eyes a little and shifted uncomfortably.  “I really need this information. The whole social fabric of Maddie’s school life is at stake,” he chuckled a little at his own sarcasm, “and she’s a good kid,” he ended softly.  

“Very well,” Julian said, accepting his excuse for now.  He got up and motioned for Dylan to follow, having chosen a place to meet close to his work space.  If Dylan wanted him to take this seriously, then he would take this seriously.

He found the information asked for quite easily.  “I’m glad I’m not young,” he told Dylan, handing the phone back, “Is this your attempt to play dad?”

“Yeah.” Dylan said, smiling as he fiddled with the phone, “We’re watching her for a week and there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding.”  

“Does Andy know you’re going through all this trouble?”

Dylan blushed a little.  “Sort of,” he said, “He knows Lizzie and I are working on it.  In fact, it was Lizzie who suggested we contact you. How’s...how’s that been going?  Between you two?”

Julian dragged his hands over his face. “Do you really care, or is this more of an excuse to hang around?” he asked seriously, “Because this is what I meant by ‘mixed signals’ Dylan.”  He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair to stare at the other man.

Dylan sighan and ran a hand through his hair.  “Fucking Christ Julian,” he muttered, “I’m trying to be your friend here, okay?  I... _want_ to be happy for you two; at least let me _try_.”  

There was a moment of tense silence.  “Okay,” Julian said finally, “and I’m sorry as well...for being so severe.  I just...I’m finding this more difficult than I had anticipated.”

Dylan smiled sadly.  “It’s my own fault,” he said, so soft it was barely audible, “God I wish I could take it all back.”  He moved to come closer to Julian, but Julian looked up at him with a resigned look. “Stop,” he said in a deep, husky voice, “Can we...do this some other time?”  

Dylan nodded and was gone without another sound.  Julian put his elbows on his knees and let his head fall into his hands, fighting the urge to have another drink.

 

~

 

Julian lost that fight with the liquor bottle, and sometime later stumbled to his bed.  Not drunk enough to sleep off his feelings, and without Dylan to be the one to call, he turned to the other person perpetually present on his mind - Lizzie.  He noticed it was late, and while nobody slept regularly, he was unsure if she’d actually be awake at this hour. So instead of a phone call, Julian sent Lizzie a text.

[J] r u awake?

He flopped back onto the bed and let his hand holding the phone fall off the edge.  He stared at the ceiling and tried not to think about Dylan. How _cute_ Dylan and Andy were together, and how he didn’t get to have that.  How Dylan _deserved_ to have it, his happy little family, while he had squandered that same opportunity once already in his life.  

His phone buzzed, twice in quick succession

[L] Yes

[L] Do you always text like that?

Julian smiled; leave it to Lizzie to notice his phone etiquette first, he thought.  

[J] y & n.  y bc fast. more rn bc am drunk

[J] :)

This is a nice turn of events, Julian thought, waiting for a reply.  If Lizzie was a good enough distraction, maybe he could get over Dylan, at least for the night.  Julian had a sudden, impish thought.

[J] do u alwys txt lk an old lady?

[J] :p

Gods, he thought again, if she had a sense of humor maybe he could get over Dylan for good. This shouldn’t have been so hard, but Dylan had been sending him mixed signals for so long that Julian hadn’t realized just how attached he had gotten to the unavailable.  Lizzie was a surprising, unexpected, and refreshing development in his personal life. She hit a lot of his turn-on buttons, but he could see she was shy and uncomfortable about the whole thing. It was what had stopped him from pursuing her more quickly, but tonight he was drunk and therefore more prone to flirting.  And he desperately needed to talk to _someone_ who wasn’t Dylan.  

His phone buzzed

[L] I always use complete words and sentences, yes.  I never understood why people took letters out of words.  It’s mostly vowels too; have you noticed that?

Julian’s chuckle turned into full-blown giggles in his drunkenness.  She was something else; so unlike anyone he had ever met. She was at once awkward and graceful, clueless and clever.  He found her to be quirky, and passionate, and _driven_ …

Julian sat up, more engaged now that he was thinking about Lizzie instead of Dylan.

[J] u sound drunk as me.  wht r u doing up so l8? its pst ur bdtm

He noticed her responses coming faster; he hoped that meant she was invested in their conversation.

[L] I am working on my case, as usual.  I find it hard to sleep when I haven’t solved one.

[J] rmnds me of dylan

Julian had hit ‘send’ before he realized what he’d typed and facepalmed.  Curse his drunkenness, he thought ruefully. Julian knew that wasn’t what he meant, and he also knew that Lizzie wouldn’t read it right either.

[L]Yeah about that…

[L] Do you compare me to him a lot?  Because I don’t want to be some sort of rebound or whatever

Julian thought of texting back, but he wasn’t sure he could make his intentions clear.  He knew she was awake, so instead called her number, hoping to smooth things over that way.  Whether he would be coherent enough was still a toss-up, he realized as he heard Lizzie pick up after only a single ring.  She didn’t speak, letting the line be silent for a moment.

“Not at all,” Julian said softly, answering the question she had asked, “Some of your behaviors are certainly similar, and I sometimes wonder if Dylan sees them as well.  But I told you before; I don’t see you as an extension of him, or some sort of rebound…”

He heard her sigh on the other end of the line.  “That’s good, I suppose,” she told him, “It’s just...you always seem to want to talk to me _after_ you’ve had….whatever it is between you and Dylan.  And you’re inevitably drunk when you do.”

“In my defense,” Julian said, “You called me a few days ago.  And I was not drunk then; merely hungover.” He heard Lizzie huff a little.  “But I generally only drink...when I’m in some sort of pain.” That wasn’t quite true; he drank when he had feelings, because he didn’t like to confront those.  “Normally, I would call Dylan and discuss my troubles with him, but for obvious reasons that option is off the table. Recently, my thoughts have turned toward you instead.”

“I’m...flattered?” Lizzie said, a tad confused, “It still doesn’t make me feel like you see me as separate from Dylan.  Yay, I’m number two.”

Julian snorted unexpectedly.  “I’m sorry,” he told her, a bit giggly, “but I’m drunk, and your sarcasm strikes me as funny.  No Lizzie, it’s deeper than that. Dylan might be the only friend that I have,” he leaned down to find the bottle of liquor and took a swig, “until you came along, that is.  You have the distinction of being the only other friend I’ve ever made in this life.”

“Well, that does sound a little better,” Lizzie said, “I suppose I can accept that as an answer.”

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” Julian confessed softly, letting the liquor do the talking for him, “I thought that, maybe if I did, then I could dream about you tonight, instead of him.”

“Do you want to dream about me?” Lizzie asked, her voice sounding far away and heavenly thanks to the effects of the alcohol.  

Julian took another swig and laid back down on the bed.  “Since I can’t do what I want to,” he said, feeling comfortable enough to continue, “then, yes.  I would rather dream about you than anything else.”

“Well, what is it you really want to do?”

Julian’s clouded mind couldn’t tell if she was testing him or not, but she probably wasn’t going to expect his answer either way.  “Right now, I’d love nothing more in the world to just be holding you.” He heard her sharp intake of breath at his forwardness. It made him smile mischievously.

“I want to wrap my arms around you, Lizzie Needham,” he continued, dropping his voice a little, “so that I can feel your softness.  I want to rest my chin on the top of your head…” he hummed a little to himself and closed his eyes, “and watch a sunrise or something equally cliched.”

He heard Lizzie sigh and giggle a little on the other end of the line. “You’re quite the romantic drunk,” she told him, “thought that does sound very, very nice.”

“That it does,” Julian said in a husky voice, the veil of sleep beginning to creep over him, “and it should make for pleasant dreams.  I would woo you with more, but it seems as if the alcohol has finally won.” He let the silence hang in the air a moment.

“This was nice,” he said, his voice quieting even more, “and I loathe its ending.  Good night, Lizzie.”

“Goodnight, Julian,” he heard her reply softly, “Sweet dreams.”  And then, she was gone.

He followed shortly after.

 

~

 

It was a few days later before Julian had the courage to approach Lizzie again.  He had woken up after their last phone conversation feeling far more vulnerable than he had in a long time, and that disturbed him.  Not willing to face it, he had absorbed himself in his work for a bit. But he knew that if he wanted to pursue something serious with Lizzie, then he had to take another step.  So this time, he chose to approach her after one of her morning runs, hoping to be able to take her out for coffee afterwards. He approached her while she was packing up her stuff.

“Hello Lizzie,” he said nonchalantly, then, “What poor sap are you going to leave bruised and flattened today?”  She seemed startled, but continued her usual hurried pace.

“Umm, this must be about that phone call the other night…” she trailed off, trying not to look at Julian as they walked.

“Yes,” he admitted, “I’ve been thinking about some things recently, and I don’t know how else to do this.  But there is something I feel I must say.” They came to a stop at a viewing section of the river. Lizzie looked up at Julian with earnest, honest eyes and Julian felt as if he was melting inside.  It took him a moment to speak, and he looked across the river as he did so.

“What I have had with Dylan could never be considered a real relationship,” Julian began sadly, “and it is that unequal exchange that plagues me.”  He looked at Lizzie once more, eyes clouded with mixed emotions. “And I was once very much in love with a woman as well. But she could not handle my line of work, and so broke it off.”

Lizzie shook her head a little, not really sure where this was going.  “Why are you telling me this?” she asked with some perplexion.

“Why _am_ I telling you this?” Julian repeated the question, tasting it, as if he was unsure himself why he was doing this.  “Because I want another shot at that, and I want it with you. You’ve made it perfectly clear where you draw the line, and I don’t want to break your rules…”

He reached out to cup her face and she pulled back.

“Stop,” she choked out reactively before he could touch her, “Just stop.”  She tried to give him a stern look, and failed. He retreated into himself, looking down and putting his hands into his pockets.  He had said his piece, and now it was her turn.

Lizzie looked around a little, as if she was afraid of being watched, before a look of determination crossed her face.  She grabbed Julian’s face and launched herself at him in a kiss.

Julian was stunned momentarily at Lizzie’s boldness.  His hands moved of their own accord, first resting on her hips, then moving up to grab her hands as she pulled back from him.  He saw a look of softness and caring in her eyes first. But a look fear and uncertainty rose in her expression quickly, and her hands groped at his face awkwardly.  Clearly, her behavior had surprised even her.

Sensing a tentative permission, Julian cupped the back of Lizzie’s head and brought their lips together once more; kissing her softly, but insistently.  Lizzie’s response was to cling to Julian; first grasping at his shoulders, then grabbing at his back as he pulled her in closer.

A few moments seemed like an eternity to the two before they pulled away slowly.  Julian’s eyes were dark, and he was feeling drunk from the passion he was feeling at the moment.  Lizzie’s eyes were soft again, but more unreadable, and she blushed and pulled away quickly as she realized her surroundings.  She looked around nervously, smoothing her hair back and adjusting her bag and clothes.

“Umm, so...what now?” Lizzie asked, hugging herself and looking away.  Julian laughed, breaking some of the nervous tension. He couldn’t help it; her naive behavior struck him as adorable and fitting.  

“Don’t be so nervous,” he said softly, stepping closer and brushing a strand of hair out of her face, “I’ve no intention of pouncing on you.”  Lizzie smiled widely and looked down as she blushed a little again. “Would you like to go get coffee or something?” he asked, “We can...figure things out some more then.”

Lizzie seemed to relax a little, and she looked up at Julian as she said “Sure; that sounds nice.”

Julian took her hand as they walked off together.

**[FIN]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ye gods this was hard to write; that drunken phone call didn't want to write itself, and I literally have no idea what time of day that last scene was filmed at. I went with morning because of the conversation. Speaking of, that is literally the *corniest* conversation that they have in the show before they kiss. Dumb af omg. It's so emotionless and innane; no wonder it drove me nuts. I hope I gave you all some actual chemistry between these two characters. 
> 
> I still have to go watch the finale; it's lingering on my DVR. After I do, I'll make a decision about how the last chapter of this thing will go. I'm sorry; I'm terrible at writing with any sort of regularity.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope to have Chapter 2/Episode 12 up sometime this week. Hopefully.


End file.
